


A Forced Dinner Date

by Patronoftheravens



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: Ajay Ghale - Freeform, Amita's there but not really, Blood, Broken Bones, First Time, Foreplay, I promise, M/M, NO DEATH, Pagan, Pagan Min - Freeform, Sex, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patronoftheravens/pseuds/Patronoftheravens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pagan invites, or forces, Ajay to come to dinner with him. From there, smut and chaos ensue. WARNING: Characters may be a bit ooc because this is my first time writing with Pagan and Ajay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ajay lounged in Amita's tent as the sun slowly dipped lower. Sabal sat to his left, Amita in front of him. The talk was light hearted, mostly veering towards what was for dinner before Ajay's radio crackled.  
"Ajay," Pagan's cheerful voice floated over, "Do you have any plans for dinner tonight?"  
"What do you want, Pagan," he hissed into the radio.  
"Oh, I just wanted to know your plans for dinner."  
"I don't have any plans for dinner."  
"Splendid! You'll be coming to dinner with me."  
Ajay sighed, "my dinner plans didn't involve you, Pagan."  
"And now they do." Ajay could practically feel him smirking over the radio.  
"What did you have in mind?" He sighed.  
"Oh,you know, you could come over around say, six. We could have dinner and if you wanted to go after that, I'd let you."  
"There's a catch isn't there."  
"Well, you have to come alone and unarmed, but unlike what your fellow Golden Path may think, I don't want to kill you."  
"Why should I come?"  
"Because you're coming to dinner with me whether I have to drag you or you can come walk in my front door. Whatever suits you. I'll be expecting you at the gates of my manor at five forty-five. If you're not there, I'm sending someone to collect you." With those parting words, the radio clicked into silence.  
"Should I go?" Ajay turned to Amita and Sabal.  
"No, Ajay," protested Amita, "it's obviously a trap. Stay here. No one will touch you without going through me."  
He flicked his gaze to Sabal. He shrugged. "If what he says is true and you'll go no matter what, better to risk one man than the entire Golden Path. And if he does move to kill you, I'm certain that you can handle him."  
"I'm going then. What is it, five fifteen? I've got half an hour to get there." Ajay stood and turned to leave.  
"Wait," called Amita, "at least put a knife in your boot." She proffered his knife. He took it and secured it on the inside of his boot.  
"Alright, I'll call you if I have to be there more than an hour. If I'm not back, send someone." He tucked his phone into his pocket. Nods from both Amita and Sabal confirmed this statement.  
The watch's hands ticked by at an agonizing pace as Pagan Min paced across the tiled dining room. Five forty-three. The tramp of booted feet behind him caused him to pause in mid-step. Two of the Royal Guard flanked Ajay Ghale. He turned to face him and smiled broadly. "How good of you to turn up, Ajay." He spoke without an edge, as Ajay looked as if he was going to put a bullet between his eyes any second. "I do hope you've come unarmed." He looked at the two guards, "search him. If he has his phone on him, give it to me."  
He saw Ajay's grit his teeth behind closed lips, but he held out his arms for the guards to search him. It didn't take long, Pagan didn't recruit those who weren't efficient. One of them, Gupta, he believed was his name, placed a knife and Ajay's phone in Pagan's outstretched hand.  
"Tsk, tsk," he sighed dropping both items into his pocket, "didn't I tell you to come unarmed." Ajay shrugged. "strong silent type today, hm?" Pagan pulled out a chair for Ajay and himself. Another shrug. Pagan sighed, "if you're not going to be any fun, then take a seat. Dinner will be ready soon."  
Ajay sat, Pagan didn't. Instead, he walked over to him and pressed his lips to his. He wanted him to get angry, push him away, something! Instead what he received were Ajay's soft, warm lips pressing back against his. He pulled away and sat down with the biggest smirk on his face. Ajay was slowly turning pink. He opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, servants entered carrying platters of food. Ajay promptly kept his mouth busy so he couldn't answer any of the questions that Pagan was sure were written on his face. No matter, he could only eat so much. Pagan ate at a leisurely pace as if he had all the time in the world. Of course he did, he was the king of Kyrat. As he was about to take another bite, Ajay's phone rang in his pocket. He took the phone out, looked at the front screen.  
"Amita's sent you a text message," he passed the phone across the table, Ajay took it puzzled. "Go on, read it. Though I abhor any kind of interruptions during a meal."  
Ajay's eyes flicked over the message. Pagan sighed resting his head on his hand. "Out loud, if you would."  
He shot a venomous glare at him, but said "stay where you are, we're coming to get our men back."  
"Oh, right, I do have five of your higher ranking members. They're quite the agreeable bunch. Then again, most are when threatened with torture."  
"They're going to come from the southern gates," Ajay suddenly said. This new tidbit of information from him piqued Pagan's interest. A slow smile crept across his face as he knitted his fingers together.  
"Why so talkative suddenly Ajay? Especially with information that could be considered treasonous."  
Ajays dark eyes flicked to the ground and he mumbled something unintelligible. "Speak up boy, haven't you heard it's rude to mumble?" Pagan crossed his legs. Ajay stood, slamming his hands on the table causing the silverware to rattle at the disturbance.  
"It's because I'm in love with you and I don't want to see you get hurt!" he shouted.  
A look of astonishment crossed the king's normally smiling face. Then, a possessive glint sparked in his eyes. He slowly stood, made his way around the table and gently cupped Ajay's face in one hand. "Is that why you returned my kiss, hm?" he let his thumb trace the hollow left by Ajay's his cheekbones and felt him lean into his hand.  
"Mmhm," the response as a content sigh.  
"Well it's a good thing I love you too." His hand glided along his jawline, tipping his face up to his and he captured his lips in a kiss. It was gentle and loving, yet Pagan wanted more. He slowly, carefully brought Ajay closer to him. He rested his hands on his hips as Ajay wrapped his arms around his neck, needing him to be closer. Pagan nibbled lightly at his lower lip, eliciting a gasp from Ajay, before slowly dragging his tongue across his lower lip, asking for entrance. Ajay submitted immediately, opening his mouth so Pagan could explore and taste him. His fingers knotted in the tail of blonde hair that snaked down his head. The slight tugging of his fingers clenching and unclenching in his hair and the soft gasps and moans that were leaking from Ajay, Pagan's hands slowly slipped under his shirt. He spent what felt like an eternity greedily exploring Ajay's warm, soft mouth and the hard, lean muscles of his upper body. By the time he pulled away, Ajay was panting out little whimpers and it was difficult to keep from bending him over a table and taking him then and there. Hell, there was nothing stopping him. He was the king. He moved to kiss him again, but Ajay's hand on his chest stopped him. "No," he panted, "Amita will be here soon."  
"You're coming with me," Pagan said, it wasn't a request.  
"Why?"  
"I want to give her troops back, but I want to see the look on her face when her fearless leader, son of Mohan Ghale, had fallen in love with her greatest enemy." Pagan grabbed Ajay's ass, tipping his head up to meet his eyes. "Because you, Ajay Ghale, are my prince. My perfect little prince. You'll be treated like royalty in both Kyrat and the bedroom."  
He felt the boy give a half hearted squirm protesting the grip Pagan had on his ass, but his hands drifted down his chest causing the king to shiver.  
"I think I can live with that." He smirked up at Pagan.  
The percussive consecutive cracks of machine gun fire pulled the two apart. "Seems Amita is just as punctual as you, Ajay." Pagn clapped him on the shoulder and turned to stroll out into the courtyard, Ajay at his heels.  
Once out there, Pagan saw the damage that had been caused. There was a nice jagged hole in one og his walls a handful of his men lie dead, but more wearing the Golden Path colors than his Royal Guard. Amita stood in the middle of it. She cast an empty assault rifle clip onto the ground and clicked another into place. "Ah yes, the feisty little bitch." Pagan drawled, "what do you want?"  
"I want my soldiers back," she growled, pointing her gun at Pagan's face, "I want Sabal to accept me, but I want you dead most, Pagan Min."  
Pagan smiled slow and cruel smile, "well, I'll give you your men back." He held up his hand and the guard led out a group of men, wrists bound and all bearing marks of torture. Amita's eyes widened. "Oh, why so surprised? My apologies, De Pleur does so like to be a bit rough with the prisoners."  
She looked like she was about to pull the trigger, but she set her jaw and looked around. "Where's Ajay Ghale? I want him back as well."  
At that moment, Ajay stepped out from behind a pillar. Amita looked as if she were about to say something, but Ajay spoke first. "Actually, Amita, I'm staying." Amita's jaw hit the floor.  
"What? Why?" Ajay sauntered over to the grinning Pagan. He dragged his hands up his chest until he could wrap his arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. The Royal Guard took Amita's astonishment to disarm her and force her to her knees despite her shouts and struggle. When Ajay pulled away, Pagan handed him a pistol. He gestured to Amita.  
"Go ahead Ajay, kill her." Ajay cocked the gun, leveled it with Amita's head. At the last moment, as he pulled the trigger, he jerked his wrist up so the bullet buried itself in the ceiling.  
"Actually," he dragged his hands down Pagan's chest, "wouldn't it be more satisfying to have her watch as everything falls apart around her?"  
"Mmm..." Pagan licked his lips, "I like the way you think, my prince." He looked to Amita, her face etched with disgust and betrayal. "Release her. Escort her and those five monkeys out and make sure they leave, Oh, and Amita, show up in my courtyard one more time and I'll let De Pleur have you." As the guard march out, Pagan tipped Ajay's face towards him. "My god, Ajay," he grabbed his wrist and started to drag him off.  
"Where are we going?"  
"I'm going to show you my bedroom because that little stunt back there has successfully made me want to fuck you until the only word those pretty lips of yours can manage to say is my name," he growled, a possessive edge dripping from his words. Ajay let out a pathetic whimper.  
It took all of his self control not to take Ajay against any of the surfaces leading to his bedroom. He barely managed to kick the door shut before dragging Ajay into a heated kiss. They stumbled over to the bed and Pagan pushed him onto his back. He kissed him until he was certain Ajay was dizzy as he was both from lack of air and the lust pounding in his ears and chest. He trailed kisses up Ajay's jawline to nibble at his earlobe.  
"Remember, my sweet prince," he purred in his ear causing a shiver to run through him, "if anything I do hurts you, you tell me to stop and I will. Okay?"  
A nod from Ajay.  
"I told you I'd treat you like royalty in the bedroom and I'm holding myself to that promise." With this statement, he dragged his hand down his chest to rest on his hips, unzipping his jacket on the way down. Hands slipped up under his shirt and he drew his nails gently across Ajay's stomach causing him to moan and arch into his hands. "Has anyone ever told you how magnificent your body is, Ajay?" his voice dripped like honey off a spoon, warm, sweet and seductive and damn if it wasn't the sexiest thing Ajay had ever heard. "If not let me be the first. You have an amazing body." He gently coaxed his shirt up and over his head to fully admire his upper body. Ajay was built like a dancer, lean and hard, the outlines of his muscles just begging to be traced, so Pagan did. There was a thin scar that ran diagonally across his left pectoral, pale against amber skin. Pagan's thumbs thumb smoothed over it and Ajay arched into his hands.  
"You're perfect little prince," he purred, hands gliding lower to drag across the 'V' in his hips. "You're my perfect little prince." Wit that, he bit and sucked at the hollow of his hip, causing Ajay to arch into his mouth, but most importantly, leave a dark mark. Ajay whimpered.  
"G-Guess I'm y-yours then," he gasped out as Pagan began leaving a trail of marks up to his collar bone.  
"Oh, you're mine all right," he purred, slowly beginning to slide off his pants as the final mark was made on his throat. But Ajay did something unexpected. He flicked his hips sideways so that he was now on top of Pagan.  
"Well I guess I'll have to make you mine," Ajay's voice slipped into a husky whisper before his lips were on Pagan's and his tongue was exploring his mouth. Pagan, though distracted, was able to form one coherent thought, 'Damn this boy knows how to use his mouth.' Ajay peeled off his purple jacket and unbuttoned the floral shirt underneath, calloused hands dragging down his chest and stomach. Pagan's body, unbidden, arched into those calloused hands.  
"And you say I have a perfect body." He licked a slow line from Pagan's navel to his waistline taking time tracing the edge with his tongue and occasionally nibbling softly at his hips. The sensations tore moans from Pagan's throat and made his head spin. It was nothing compared to what happened after Ajay undid the slide clasps and zipper of his slacks with his teeth. He licked messy stripes all down Pagan's member sometimes occasionally taking the head of it into his mouth and sucking lightly, but nothing more than that. It drove Pagan crazy. Crazy enough for him to find the strength to flip Ajay onto his back again and pin his hips in place with his hands.  
"My, my, Ajay. You are a man of many talents." He half purred half panted, cock dripping from Ajay's teasing. Ajay merely smirked in response. Pagan couldn't take it anymore he had to have him, but no. Have to make make sure he's comfortable first. He swept his thumb over his bottom lip before placing two fingers at his lips. "Suck," he growled and Ajay obeyed. The combination of Ajay's tongue dancing around his fingers and the thought of being inside of that glorious body was driving Pagan mad. He removed his fingers and slowly inserted one into Ajay. He squirmed, whimpering at the intrusion.  
"It's going to feel a little uncomfortable, okay?" He reassured, his other hand gently stroking his cheek. "If you want me to stop, tell me." He shallowly thrusted his finger in and out, letting Ajay get used to the sensation before adding a second. He slowly, but gently stretched Ajay out before curling his fingers slightly. This rewarded him not with a whimper or a gasp, but a moan of pleasure. Then, he started to prod around. jay's moans slowly grew louder until he gripped onto Pagan's shoulders, a load moan tearing itself from his throat.  
"God! Pagan! There!" He gasped out. Pagan smirked, pulled his fingers away and slowly eased himself inside of him. Ajay's hips arched off the bed to meet him halfway.  
"Eager are we?" chuckled Pagan.  
"I swear, Pagan, if you do not take me hard and make me scream, I will mount you and ride you until you beg for mercy," Ajay hissed out. These words had Pagan thrust suddenly hard into Ajay. He moaned in both pain and pleasure until Pagan hit the little bundle of nerves. Ajay's hips bucked off the bed and a cry spilled from him. Pagan kept going deeper and harder, driven by lust.  
"Pagan, Pagan, Pagan!" Ajay repeated his name like a prayer, that is, until he started screaming. He screamed in pleasure until his voice started to fail. His walls started to tighten around Pagan and he knew he was close, Pagan brushed his lips against his ear, "come for me Ajay. Let me hear you," he purred. That pushed him over the edge. Ajay came hard, screaming Pagan's name. The sudden tightness of Ajay caused Pagan to follow shortly after, panting breathlessly.  
"It's...ah...It's getting late," gasped Ajay.  
"There's a guest room we can stay in. I'll have someone clean up this room later. Pagan and Ajay both pulled on pants, Ajay being sore needed a little help with that and walking to the guest room. Once there, he practically collapsed onto the bed, taking Pagan with him. He rolled to face him.  
"So, you up for that tomorrow?" Pagan grinned.  
"For you, I'm up for anything."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut, SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED THE GAME, Amita's pissed, Little bit of leash kink

Chapter 2  
Days of adventure passed followed by night of hard sex. Sometimes, the sex didn’t wait until the night. As promised, Pagan treated Ajay like royalty; making him his left hand man as he called it so De Pleur wouldn’t lose his position and upgraded his phone, putting himself in his contacts as “your king”. Things were going smoothly until Amita requested and audience.  
Ajay laid with Pagan, letting the king’s hands drip and drag across him like warm honey. Fresh dark marks bloomed like dark roses on his amber skin.  
“Your little honey pot came calling today. Said she wants an audience.” His voice still bore traces of lust and want.  
“Mmm...Amita?” Ajay’s almond shaped eyes blinked slowly. Damn Pagan’s hands felt good on his body.  
“Yes, her.”  
“What’s she want?” He stretched out. It was only eight in the morning. Pagan had woken him up at seven then proceeded to fuck him until his voice started to grow hoarse.   
“She said she wanted an audience.”  
“What for?”  
“Apparently,” he punctuated this word with a kiss to Ajay’s neck, “The Golden Path can’t function without the son of Mohan Ghale.”  
“They’re not getting me back,” Ajay let out a content sigh as Pagan’s hands slid over his back.  
“I know,” he tipped his head up to face him, “Would you care to help me dissuade her?”  
“Of course I would,” Ajay’s lips curled into a wry smirk, “my king. Did she say anything about Sabal?”  
“I’m afraid that she only requested, or rather demanded, to see me.” His fingers drifted over the bite marks he’d left on his chest.  
“What would you have me do?”  
“I’m putting you on a leash,” said Pagan, “and displaying you to show that you’re mine and mine alone. Not Amita’s. Not Sabal’s. Mine.”  
Ajay’s face flushed a light pink but he managed to keep the cocky little smirk plastered on his face. “I am yours,” he traced a mark he’d left on Pagan’s shoulder, “and you’re mine.”  
Pagan chuckled, “I forgot that my sweet little prince enjoys the thrill of a battle for dominance.”  
“I almost won too,” Ajay scowled, “I would’ve if you hadn’t found out that my lower back is damn sensitive.”  
Pagan cupped his face in his hands, “Don’t scowl Ajay. It’s unbecoming of that pretty face of yours.”  
Ajay’s eyes suddenly found the ceiling to be much more fascinating than Pagan.  
Pagan chuckled. “If you’re going to be that way might as well get ready. Amita should be here within the hour.” He clapped him on the shoulder before swinging his legs off the bed and opening the wardrobe. Ajay burrowed further into the blankets. Pagan looked to him, now dressed in a white jacket, white slacks, and a fuchsia colored dress shirt and sighed. “Come on Ajay, we’ve got a meeting to attend to, Golden Path to piss off, you have to be up to do these things.”  
There was a bit of disgruntled grumbling from the mass of blankets Ajay had become, but eventually he poked his head out.  
“Do you have something particular picked out for me?” He yawned, stretching his arms over his head.  
“Actually, I did.” Pagan tapped a finger on his chin, then looked to Ajay, “Have I ever told you that you have fantastic thighs?” He purred resting his cheek on his hand.  
“You’d know best. You’re the one who’s been between them every night,” he took a moment to stretch before looking back to Pagan, “When’s Amita coming?  
“Oh, nine thirty if memory serves me but it rarely does after fucking you.”  
Ajay rolled his eyes, “That gives us what, forty five minutes?”  
Pagan shrugged, “About,” he strode over to him, the heels of his dress shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. Suddenly, he grabbed Ajay by the hips and pulled him into a passionate kiss, letting his hands roam everywhere. Those wandering hands eventually found his neck which he slipped a black leather collar around, pulling it tight. Ajay pulled back, tugging on the collar.  
“What’s this?” He questioned cocking an eyebrow at Pagan.  
“Your collar, my little prince,” Pagan chuckled sitting in a nearby chair and crossing his legs. “Besides, like that, without your shirt and all, your little honeypot will see that you’re mine. Not hers, not Sabal’s , and most definitely not the bloody fucking Golden Path’s,” He drawled a dangerous tone coming into his voice. Ajay looked down. Sure enough, dozens of little bite marks dotted the skin of his torso and neck.   
“Guess I was too busy screaming your name to notice what your mouth was doing.”  
Pagan smirked. “I’m surprised your voice hasn’t gone out with all the screaming you’ve been doing.”  
Ajay once again found another interest that wasn’t Pagan’s smirking face but the ceiling which he stared at as if it had taken his lunch money,  
“I know, isn’t the ceiling just lovely?” said Pagan, “The architect that planned this out had to be held at gunpoint to get it just right.” He huffed, “The nerve he had, it was almost as much as Amita’s.” He turned back to Ajay, “Which reminds me, you certainly can’t wear those pants to a diplomatic, at least I hope it to be diplomatic, meeting. They don’t flatter your gorgeous figure at all.”  
Ajay rolled his eyes, “Then what would you suggest I wear you damn beauty queen?”  
Pagan put a hand to his chest, an expression of mock offense on his face. “Why Ajay, there is nothing wrong with wanting to look good. Besides, you should get rid of that green hood you’re so fond of. It’s terribly boring.”  
“And if I like boring?” Ajay quirked an eyebrow.  
“Then you fell in love with the wrong man my boy.” He turned to Ajay’s wardrobe which he had put in when the master bedroom after Ajay moved in and pulled out a pair of tight fitting black jeans. He tossed them to him and Ajay was promptly hit in the face by a wad of flying pants. He blinked in dissatisfaction at the offending article of clothing before pulling them on.  
A slow smirk spread across Pagan’s face, “My, my, Ajay. If we didn’t have guests coming, I’d take you here and now.”  
Ajay again found the ceiling more interesting than Pagan. Before Pagan could act on his words, however, one of the Royal Guard’s voices wafted through the door.  
“My lord, Amita has reached the palace gates. We await your word to lead her in.” He said.  
“Thank you,” Pagan waved his hand dismissively though the guard couldn’t see him, “you may fo.” He looked to Ajay, “Come along now, my little prince,” He strode off, Ajay in tow. Once he reached the main hall, he took a seat in a rather elaborate chair. He beckoned Ajay over and clipped a black leash to his collar. Ajay shot him a soft glare, but sat on Pagan’s left thigh, head resting on his shoulder. Pagan nodded to a guard and Amita walked in.  
Her eyes widened at the sight of Ajay Ghale, son of Mohan Ghale leader of the Golden Path, draped wantonly across Pagan’s lap. Dark marks dotted his chest and neck and one hand lazily drifted down Pagan’s chest.  
Hot, barely refine anger flashed behind her eyes but she managed to quell it.  
“Amita,” a smirk tugged at the corners of Pagan’s lips,  
“welcome to my kingdom.” he spread the arm that wasn’t around Ajay’s waist out, “You’ve come to me with a demand, I can see it on your face.”  
Amita scowled, “I want Ajay back,” she growled.  
“Oh, I’m not keeping him here by any means. He’s free to leave whenever he chooses. As you can see he doesn’t want to leave.”  
Amita’s gaze flicked to Ajay whose almond shape eyes were etched with boredom.  
“Ajay,” she began. Ajay looked over, “Come back.”  
“Actually, Amita,” his voice betrayed nothing, “I’d rather stay here.”   
“Why?!” Amita’s voice rose to a shout, “What does he offer that the Golden Path does not?”  
“If you’re going to shout in my hall, I’ll have you escorted out.” Pagan rubbed his temples.  
“Where do I begin?” It was a rhetorical question, “The food doesn’t make me sick like your canned rations. I can walk outside without fear of being gunned down and the goddamned toilets are more than just a hole in the ground.”  
“Sabal’s right, he should’ve come-”  
“You want to know what Sabal would have said?” Ajay cut her off voice rising a touch, “He would’ve said that I should come back to Banapur because it’s what my father would have wanted. My father was not a good man nor a great one. He slaughtered my half sister when she wasn’t even a year old. I didn’t even know I had a half sister until I sided with Pagan.”  
This news came as a minor shock to Amita. “Half sister?” She mused.  
“Yeah, you remember the name Lakshmana? She was my half sister.”  
Amita glared at him, set her jaw. “You may side with whoever you wish, Ajay, but the Golden Path will have you back no matter what it takes.” She turned on her heel and left.  
“A stunning display Ajay,” Pagan kissed his cheek, “Was it true? What you said about never leaving me?”  
“Of course it was. I love you Pagan,” He turned and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “As long as you love me back.”  
“I do, and I always will,” his kind smile turned into a smirk, “so, do you want me to take you here on the floor or in the bedroom?”  
“Mmm...I don’t think I’ll make it to the bedroom.” Ajay’s hand slid up Pagan’s inner thigh.  
“If so,” Pagan’s voice dropped to a purr, “then why don’t you kneel before your king.” He used the leash that he still had in his hand to force Ajay off of his lap and onto his knees in front of him. Pagan stood, paced in long measured strides around him as he knelt. “You like it when I’m rough, when I control you.” His words dragged over Ajay like warm hands caressing every curve of his body. He shivered.  
“What gave it away?” A cocky smirk played at the corners of his lips.  
“Why, the ever growing bulge in your pants, Ajay. I’m turning you on.” That damn little smile was on his face again. Ajay internally groaned. He was going to get the hell teased out of him.  
Pagan let a hand drop onto Ajay’s back and slowly drift across him. He shuddered underneath the touch, lips parting as a soft “hah…” huffed out. His fingers that were resting on his thighs curled into them as Pagan dragged those smooth hands down his chest. Pagan’s hands were always smooth. His fingernails always perfectly manicured, but they were enough to leave little crescent moons on Ajay’s hips and thighs. Those smooth hands glided over the trail of bite marks he’d left, lower. Ajay let out a soft moan as Pagan’s fingers teased at his stiffening member threatening to burst through the zipper on his jeans.   
“Ajay,” he drew out the last syllable.  
“Y-yes, Pagan?”  
He felt Pagan’s lips brush his ear, “on your elbows.” His voice was steady, yet commanding and sex and lust dripped off every word.  
Ajay obeyed instantly. He felt Pagan’s fingers push ever so slightly against his entrance and his body tensed.  
“Relax, my prince, I promise I won’t hurt you unless it’s a pleasurable pain,” Pagan’s free hand gently stroked his lower back. Little by little, Ajay slowly relaxed. Pagan eased his fingers inside of him and set to work stretching and prodding. These actions dragged moans from Ajay’s throat, but those were quiet compared to the cry he let out when Pagan’s fingers found his prostate. Ajay could feel the king’s smirk burning into him.  
“My, my, eager are we?” Pagan’s voice exuded power and dominance even with the simple, slightly mocking question.  
“If I have to fucking beg to get you inside of me, I will,” Ajay’s voice trembled almost as much as his body at the moment.  
“Mm…” Pagan’s lips separated with a pop, “I think I would have you beg,” he used the leash to pull Ajay up off his elbows so his lips barely brushed the outside of his ear, “but the sight of you on your knees trembling is doing the trick just fine.” With a hand on the back of his neck, Pagan guided Ajay back onto his elbows. There was the soft rustling of a belt being undone and clothing being slid off and Pagan eased himself inside of Ajay.   
Ajay’s fingernails dug into the floor as a wave of pleasure and pain washed over him. It only too Pagan a few thrusts before he hit that little bundle of nerves. Ajay’s moans suddenly increased in volume and he rocked his hips back into Pagan who groaned and dug his nails into his hips.  
“Easy there, Ajay,” he growled into his ear, voice strained from having to keep it steady, “you don’t want the entire manor hearing you,” he tightened the collar around his neck by pulling harshly back on the leash. Ajay yelped, torn between clawing at the collar or steadying himself as Pagan drove deeper into him. He kept his elbows on the floor. As his cries grew louder, Pagan laid a gentle hand on his side.  
“Sh, sh, sh,” his voice was a gentle yet commanding breath in his ear, “I know it’s hard, but I need you to keep quiet.”  
Ajay nodded, gasping and whimpering as Pagan kept hitting his prostate over and over without mercy.When he came, to prevent himself from practically screaming from the ecstasy that exploded in him, he grit his teeth and moaned Pagan’s name like it was some sacred mantra. Pagan himself followed a few erratic thrusts after Ajay, panting and moaning.  
They lay there a moment, Pagan’s chest rapidly rising and falling against Ajay’s back. His heart beating out a tattoo like some frenzied drummer. He pulled away. Ajay rolled onto his back, chest heaving. The silence was only broken by ragged panting until Ajay’s stomach rumbled. Pagan glanced over, coffee colored eyes turned even dark by the sudden dilation of his pupils.  
“Hungry?” He asked. Ajay nodded.  
“We never did have breakfast.”  
“Right. I fucked you, laid there for an hour, got dressed, collared you, met Amita, then fucked you again. There was no breakfast in there.”  
“Shower first.”  
“Yes, and I’ll take the leash off you.”  
“And the collar?”  
Pagan chuckled, “Yes, yes, and the collar.”  
“I’m not your pet, Pagan.” Ajay slowly sat up.  
“No,” Pagan tipped his chin towards him, “you’re my prince.”  
“Well,” he stood, “your prince is going to take a shower without you if you don’t get up.” He strode off, Pagan in tow.


	3. Freezing For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hurt and Ajay, sorry.

Chapter 3  
The harsh wind of the Himalayas bit through Ajay’s jacket and scarfed neck. Sure, Pagan had provided him with a garishly green coat to keep the cold off and to aid in finding him should he go missing, yet somehow the wind cut right through it. He shivered, the metallic tang of tanked oxygen bitter on his tongue. Extra canisters were in his pack, but only three days worth. He’d have to find those diamonds for Longinus fast. So what if he’d sided with Pagan? Longinus was still a friend and he’d promised to get those diamonds.   
“Right,” he muttered to himself, “and those diamonds have just so happened to fall smack in the middle of one of Earth’s harshest environments.” Now was one of those times he missed America. He’d have to take PAgan there again sometime now that he’d spread his mother’s ashes. Yeah, he’d talk to him about it when he was out of the mountains and preferably over a cup of coffee. Heavy boots crunched on the snow and ice. Thank god he’d gotten new shoes. The sneakers he’d been wearing would have been soaked through and through by now. The sky, or the clouds that perpetually covered the sky, began to dim and Ajay decided that he’d need to find a place to bed down soon. The Himalayas were dotted with caves where snow couldn’t get into. Unfortunately, those warm dry places brought not only humans, but various animals as well. Mountain goats were one thing, but going into a cave and finding a bear or a snow leopard on the inside was not a pleasant surprise. He’d spotted the hulking mass of a bear a little ways down, but that was far enough away that he didn’t have to worry much now. As he searched, he near stumbled over the lip of a cliff just in time to see the darkened entrance of a cave beneath it. He attached a grapple to a sturdy outcropping of rock and began to shimmy down the bright orange rope. Once he hit the bottom, he gave the drapple a tug and it landed at his feet with a metallic thud. He then recoiled it and hung it off his pack. Nocking an arrow, he slowly poked his head around the corner of the cave, prepared to put an arrow in any beast, human or otherwise that lurked in the cave. Nothing moved, nothing stirred, nothing even breathed, not even Ajay. He exhaled slowly, putting the arrow back in his quiver and started to set up camp. The pack came off first, thudding at his feet. From there, he unrolled the caterpillar-esque sleeping bag and set his watch to wake him at six thirty. Then he checked the gauge on his oxygen tank. Almost full. Enough to last him through the night. At last, he slipped off his boots and weapons, laying both next to him in case he needed to fight, and climbed into the sleeping bag, drifting off into a light sleep.  
Muffled voices dragged him from sleep with a heavy hand and his eyes weakly fluttered open. There was the scrape of boots on stone. He jolted upright, pulling on shoes, quickly tying them and grabbed the kukri knife, gripping it tight. Whoever was in here didn’t know that he was here. That gave him an advantage at least for the moment. A clip was reloaded into an assault rifle with a familiar click-click-thunk. Golden Path then, judging by the silhouette he could just barely make out. Three of them. The lead one moved forward into the cave cautiously, minding every step. He wasn’t here for discussion, if he was he’d have announced his presence by now. Three steps, two steps, one step. Ajay lunged, hand snaking out to clap around the man’s mouth, kukri burying in his throat. Instant death. The body fell to the stone floor without resistance. The second one came in, this time he had a flashlight. Ajay was caught in the beam and the rebel fired, but missed his shots as Ajay snatched up the pistol from the fallen rebel and put a bullet between the man’s eyes then snapped another shot to the last one near the entrance. With a quick scan of himself for injuries, he chuckled to himself. Both factions had wanted him dead. Kyrat sure was hazardous to your health. He started making his way back towards the sleeping back when pain, white hot and tinged with purple, lanced its way through his side. He gasped, looking down to see a knife embedded in his side, a rebel attached to it. With lightning fast reactions, the kukri was shoved into the rebel’s chest and he fell, blood spurting over the cave floor. He wasn’t the only one bleeding. Rich Scarlet blood oozed around the knife in his side and he staggered his way over to where the first aid kit was in his pack only to be ambushed by yet another rebel. These guys just didn’t give up. They struggled, Ajay’s fingers wrapped around the barrel of the rifle and keeping it away from his face while his other hand fought the rebel’s for him to plant a kukri in his ribs. Then, he slipped on the sleety mixture of blood and snow, tumbling over the edge. He hit the ground, hard. The sickening snap of bones resonated through him. He went to stand only to realize that the bone of his shin was protruding through the flesh in a garish white flecked with crimson. He toppled to the ground, trying in vain to hold himself up by his hands realizing that the hands he’d use to try and break his fall had broken instead. The snow was melting around him, soaking into his jacket and a slight dizziness started to overtake him. No, it couldn’t. His air hose was punctured and was leaking precious oxygen into the air. He’d survive. He had to. MAnaging barely to drag himself under the overhang for some manner of shelter, he was surprised to find the corpse of a Royal Army officer under the same outcropping in full Himalaya gear with an oxygen mask on. With a breathless “thank you,” Ajay slipped the oxygen mask on discarding his and connecting the air hose. There wasn’t too much left since it had been leaking, but the corpse had another canister on it. That would last him a few more hours. The next order of business was to tend to his wounds. That was when he remembered that all Royal Army officers carried first aid kits on them, complete with some splints and a needle and thread. A quick search of the corpse revealed what he was looking for and a radio that still worked. He flicked it on and turned it to the Royal Army’s most used frequency.  
“This is Ajay Ghale. I’m wounded and without viable gear in the Himalayas. My coordinates are 28.98° north and 83.992° E. Please send assistance.” He set it down.  
Taking a deep breath, he started with the wound in his side as he was already feeling light headed from blood loss. Wincing from the strain on his broken wrist, he pressed a thick piece of gauze to it. holding it there until the slow spread of red stopped near completely. Then, he doused the wound in alcohol, wincing at the stinging burn before threading the needle and setting to work stitching the wound. The edges of it were always the numb parts, but as he grew closer to the center, his breath became ragged as he hissed through the pain, gritting his teeth. When it was finally done, he plastered a bandage over it and looked to his wrist. Gently smoothing over the bone fragments to put them in some sort of order, before setting it with a sharp wet pop. Pain blazed through him once again, but he managed to splint it with one of the smaller splints in the kit. That brought him to the last pressing matter, his shin. Taking several deep steadying breaths, he gripped the bone and began to push it back through where it had burst the skin. IT was brutal agonizing torment. He cried out through his mask when it finally managed to go all the way back in. A quick douse in alcohol, then a suture and he was once again semi whole. Wrapping the puncture point in the last of the bandages, he splint his leg as best he could with what was in the kit. Because of his wet clothes, he was shivering now, shivering hard enough that it was a challenge to keep his teeth from chattering so he stripped the corpse of its weather gear and pulled it over himself. IT was a few sizes too big, but that didn’t matter. His eyes felt heavy. At best, he had maybe three hours. He could only hope that someone heard his call.  
Pagan had joined the search party after receiving Ajay’s distress call. If his men could find him, he didn’t want to be sitting in his palace waiting for some kind of news. He wrapped his coat tighter around himself, knowing that Ajay’s time was running out. Since the call, it had been an hour thirty, maybe two. There wasn’t much left before they would be turning up a corpse instead of a live Ajay. He shivered by the helicopter when three shots rang out in quick succession. His men immediately started off at a brisk jog towards where they’d heard the shots. Pagan didn’t dare go with them for fear of what he might find. He waited for several eternities it felt like before two medics wheeled Ajay into the helicopter on a stretcher. Pagan didn’t get a good look at him, but he knew he was alive.   
“Get us to Rajgad, it’s the closest place with a fully stocked medical wing.” he commanded the pilot as medics shut the helicopter doors and it lifted off the ground. Pagan sat next to Gary, who was smiling a knowing little smile as Gary often did.   
“What’s the smile for?” He asked.  
“Well, it’s kind of funny. I’ve never seen you care so much for someone since Ishwari left. And here you are near freezing yourself over her son.”   
A tiny tweak up graced the king’s lips, “I guess you’re right Gary, I guess you’re right.”


End file.
